The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts
Volume III

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

nhall@tickiestories.us

Chapter 1
 

“Three weeks after the war in Italy ended and after the Germans surrendered the war in Europe, a captain in the U.S. Army appeared and announced Gio was found and was safe and would be on his way home as soon as it could be arranged. I’m so excited! I announced the news to the boys and to the rest of my family. The excitement builds in anticipation of his arrival home, but there is some apprehension. Has Gio changed? Will he still love me?”(The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts) 

“Thus, we may know that there are five essentials for victory;

He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight.

He will win who knows how to handle both superior and inferior forces,

He will win even whose army is animated by the same spirit throughout all its ranks.

He will win, even who, prepared himself, waits to take the enemy unprepared.

He will win who has military capacity and is not interfered with by the sovereign.”

(Sun Tzu – The Art of War) 

The gentle swaying of the rail car and click, click of the metal wheels zipping over the iron rail joints, did little to encourage Gio’s sleep, although his three companions were doing so, most soundly.

Enrico Villar, now age eleven and Antonio Pereiro, now age ten, were cuddled together under a blanket their naked bodies pressed face to face, on one of the beds of the sleeping compartment provided Gio and his small group. While in Gio’s bed, the youngest, Vincenzo Margade, now age eight, lay stretched out on Gio’s stomach and chest, his little naked body pressed up tight to Gio’s equally naked body seeking comfort and warmth. Vinnie, thumb in his mouth, was breathing evenly and softly, started to move ever so little, but Gio quickly placed his arms around the small boy to hold him in place so Vinnie’s head remained on Gio’s chest. Gio opened his own legs a little, allowing Vinnie’s legs to drop between them. The shift did cause Vinnie’s stiff little penis come into direct contact with Gio’s stomach, but allowed Gio’s hard, big adult cock to slip up between the youngster’s legs. The feel of the massive male member didn’t seem to bother the boy one bit. It was Vinnie’s preferred sleeping position when the monsters and terrible dragons of nightmares invaded his sleep, causing him to wake, frightened, and disoriented.

There were so many dragons of the mind and body to either slay or subdue, relegating terrible events, sights, and sounds to that portion of the brain where no further damage could be done on the boys or their adult companion.

The four of them, the three boys and Gio, witnessed the horror of war, including the death of their loved ones, tearing them from family, friends, and location, despair beyond all imaginable, overcoming all the blood, the body parts, the needles, brutal, fucking of the innocents to the pleasure of the enemy, taking, giving nothing but their liquid poison to impregnate or just to violate! The killing of others, the torturing, and maiming of some, came to be an everyday occurrence in their lives, but often came back to remind them of it during the night. Gio’s life in this conflict was by choice, but the boys’ was due to their ethnicity and the National Socialists wrath inflicted on them during the recent conflict in Italy and by others throughout the history of the Roma People.

Now, Gio’s thoughts were on returning to home; his home at Ravenwood, where his lover, his soul mate waited. It seemed odd to him to be actually going home rather than thinking about the day when he could. Many times, it was only the thought of Isaiah and home that held him to task and kept him from totally becoming the sadistic, murdering Avenging Angel some thought him to be. It’d been less than three years since he’d been to Ravenwood to see and make love to his beloved Isaiah. If everything went as planned, he’d be home on July 1, 1945

Would Isaiah still love him or had he given up hope and moved on in life without him?

Memories the night before and of the day he left for deployment after boot camp and his selection for “special training” flooded his mind, stirred his anxiety and yearning for his return, Often, after a particular difficult assignment or mission, he’s allow his mind to relax reveling in the good times he and Isaiah had, the fun with the boys, and the wise counsel of Conley.

When he left, he knew he would be sent overseas, specifically to the Mediterranean Theater, but he didn’t dare tell anyone, not even Isaiah such was his sworn oath to keep secret what his mission would be. All he could do was hope Isaiah could draw inferences, even direct knowledge, by using the special code they’d developed to communicate with each other in their letters. They understood the mail, during wartime, was not only unreliable but highly censored! Each piece of mail either leaving Gio or received by him would be poured over by government censors trying to eek out any information the enemy might use to thwart or subvert the United States and it’s Allies in the prosecution of the war.

Each boy, at Ravenwood, stepped forward giving Gio a hug, wished him well, and to be safe and come home, Tears flowed freely, his and theirs! The little boys, Carlito and Andres hugged the hardest and sobbed loudly when he released them from his embrace. At their young age, they knew the realities of war.  After all, hadn’t they escaped the advancing Japanese and ended up in a war anyway? During the night, shortly after Isaiah and he went to bed, they heard the scampering of small feet coming across the hall to their room

“I’m betting it’s Carlito and Andres,” mused Isaiah, “coming for something to remember you by. Perhaps a goodbye gift from them to you!”

The naked little boys, the small, but quite stiff cocks pointing up and out from their hairless crotches, scrambled into bed to join Isaiah and Gio. Carlito reached forward, clasp his hand around Gio’s now stiff cock, the pinkish, plum-shaped knob fully exposed from the foreskin, stroked it a couple of times, removed his hand, spit on it, and backed his little butt to the prodigious prod, and pushed back. The head popped in, Carlito moaned his satisfaction, wiggled a bit to encourage Gio, and motioned for him to begin.

Begin he did, feeling the extreme tightness, moist heat, and the stretching of the muscles and bowels as Carlito accepted and stretched as Gio’s cock sunk in. It didn’t take Gio long to cum and flood the youngster’s bowel and butt hole with his fluid. Carlito pulled away and Andres took his place, positioning Gio’s still stiff member at his asshole and pushed back, in a similar manner as had Carlito. Andres was just as tight, just as moist, and just as pleasurable to fuck as Carlito. Gio, not empty yet, shot his load deep into Andre, the same as he had Carlito. Both boys, well satisfied, eased from the bed and returned to their room.

Just the thought of that experience, only one of many Gio had while living at Ravenwood, made his cock stiffen, and slide up Vinnie’s naked body. The boy was too tired and Gio so filled with anxiety, there’d be no sex with Vinnie at this time.

******* 

Conley hugged him, then nodded his head in affirmation, “You and Isaiah are the sons I never had. Come home safely, Gio; Isaiah needs you and I need you! Ravenwood needs you!”

In his heart, Conley feared he’d never seen the handsome boy again, but hoped the lad would survive the coming battles and the horror of it all.

“If anyone can,” he thought watching Gio climb into the pickup truck with Isaiah, “Gio Russo can!”

The most difficult, the moment Gio’s heart was almost ripped from his chest, was saying goodbye to Isaiah. Isaiah, standing with his grandparents, waited until Gio said his goodbyes, reassuring them he’d do all he could to stay alive, unhurt, and seek some vengeance in the name of the Russo Family, specifically Leo Russo, his grandfather’s cousin and dear friend.

Gio and Isaiah held their embrace for as long as possible before the conductor called “All aboard.” Releasing Isaiah, Gio turned as he stepped onto the steps of the train car, looked and saw, not only the tears and anguish on his grandparents faces, but the cascade of tears silently washing down the face of his lover, Isaiah. He vowed, with a simple wave of his hand, no matter what, Isaiah and he would be together again, bonded as never before. His vow to return was cemented by Isaiah’s tears and now his own, he’d do anything, kill anybody, commit any deed against any persons who might decide to prevent him from doing so!

The training camp he was assigned to, was at a National Park in the eastern part of the United States not far from Washington, D.C. and other metropolitan areas. It was not, he noted, typical of most military training camps nor was the type of training given to those assigned there. The land was mountainous or, if a recruit was from out west somewhere, hilly and made a perfect training area. The rigorous training regime did not prevent him from practicing his clandestine activities and skills however

He was part of a small group, perhaps fifty or so, of soldiers recruited for the OSS (Office of Strategic Services). Gio learned, listening as he was wont to do without comment, they all were recruited because of some special skills they possessed and were separated into three groups; those who spoke English and German, those who spoke English and Italian, and those who spoke English, German, and Italian. Gio didn’t mention to anyone he also spoke Roma as well.

“There are things in life better off left unsaid,” he thought to himself, realizing his secreted knowledge of the language just might come in handy someday, especially if he was in a situation where he needed to make haste in concealment or passing a message.

In addition to being sworn to secrecy on pain of death or imprisonment, they were forbidden to use their real names or ranks. They were to be anonymous except for the name assigned to them by the officers in charge. Gio was given the code name “Knobby” and was referred to by that name only. Establishing close ties or actual friendships with one another was frowned on as well.

“You may be in a situation where one might have to kill the other,” an instructor told them.

The training over the next four weeks was intensive, extensive, and extremely tiring. The recruits were subjected to rugged physical training consisting, not only of calisthenics, but running long distances, climbing over obstacles, scaling trees, and rugged cliffs, rappelling down them after ascending to the heights. Learning to parachute was one of Gio’s least loved exercises, but he endured it and was successful.

After his first jump, he muttered to himself, “At least I didn’t break a fucking leg or something.”

Radio operation, clandestine movement through fields, forests, and mountainous terrain, hand-to-hand combat, bomb making, and stealth were, just to name a few, of the drills they underwent.  It was, as one of the instructors put it, “trying to put four pounds of fresh shit in a one pound bag.”

The training exercises began as soon as the recruits were awake and continued throughout the day, many times without breaks for meals, until after dark, unless they were kept active all night and into the next day. Enduring sleep deprivation and hunger, while completing a particular exercise was part of the exercise as well. The use of firearms, including small arms, rifle, and sniper attacks were included. They soon learned to eat when not hungry and sleep when not tired. There was no guarantee they would be allowed either at what would be considered appropriate times. Sleeping with one eye and one ear open seemed to be normal. They developed the instincts of a dog, who, when appearing to be sound asleep, would hear the slightest of noises and be instantly awake.

The group dwindled in size over the four weeks. Early on, Gio noticed the subtle manners in which recruits were removed (washed-out) from the program. He assumed they were sent back into the ranks of the regular army and off to combat duty. It would be something as casual as using the recruits real name, usually at a time the recruit was tired or absorbed n some task which required extreme concentration. The instructor would address the individual and, without thinking, respond.

He also noticed, in his group from the second week when they were separated from the others, they were required to speak Italian, German, or English depending on the chosen language, announced at breakfast mess, of the day meant no other language would be spoken. For example, if the language was to be Italian and someone spoke or responded to German or English, the recruit was sent down the road!

Numerous times the trainers tried to trip Gio up, testing him to see if he’d fuck up. There was the time, at the end of a particularly difficult and tiring day, leaving everyone dirty and wore out, Gio, along with several others, was in the shower trying to wash away the dirt, grime, and misery of the day, were joined by a couple of the trainers. This was not unusual since there were no separate showers for officers or trainers.

One of the trainers stood on one side of Gio and the other on the other side in the shower room letting the hot water from the shower heads cascade over their bodies. One of the trainers, letting out a satisfying, welcoming sigh, announced softly, “God, this feels good!”

Gio never responded, looked up, or even twitched his eyes acknowledging he understood what was being said. However, the recruit on the other side of the trainer, responded, “Fuckin’ A it does!”  He was gone in the morning!

At the end of the four weeks of training, Gio was called into the commanders office. Upon entering, ushered in by the aide at the desk, he was called to attention.

“Achtung!” ordered the commander in German. German was the language of the day.

Gio did as commanded, stood at attention!

The officer rose from behind the desk, strode forward, smiled, and said in Italian, “You may stand at ease, soldier. Your training period is over!”

Gio never moved or acknowledged he understood what was being said to him.

The aide stepped into the office, saying in English, “What do you think? Will I win the fifty bucks this guy doesn’t make it?”

“Depends on whether his cock is circumcised or not,” conjectured the commander. “Check his dick!”

Gio never moved, blinked, or changed the expression on face or shifted his eyes. He just stood at attention, looking straight ahead!

The second man stepped in front of Gio, unbuckled his pants, slid the zipper down on the fly, and with one swift movement, pulled Gio’s pants and boxer shorts down to his ankles, his uncut cock flopping from the sudden release. Again, Gio made no effort to acknowledge what happened or object to being exposed. Had he been in the German Army he would have acted in the same manner. Obedience was paramount!

He waited patiently wondering what was going to happen next or what the grand plan for this exhibition was. He soon found out!

Captain Dickenson stepped into the office from a door behind the commander’s desk. The Captain dismissed both men.

“At ease, Knobby,” Captain Dickenson ordered in German. “You have permission to speak English. Your trial is over.”

Gio relaxed, smiled, giving a nod, but said nothing!

“Knobby,” Captain Dickenson continued, “be ready to leave tomorrow at 04 hundred hours. You’ll be sent to an extremely secret training facility in Florida. There you will team up with another operative code named ‘Hawk.’ He is fluent in all three of the languages as you are. Once your orientation and briefing are over at this base, you will be sent overseas on a highly dangerous, secretive, but vital mission. I will explain more when I arrive in Florida a couple of days after you do.”

“Sir?” Gio asked. “May I pull up my shorts and pants now?”

“Oh, my god, yes!” Captain Dickenson sputtered, noticing Gio’s cock was still hanging in the breeze, “Sorry about that!”

As if in an afterthought, as Gio was pulling up his pants and tucking the marauding menace back into his pants, Dickenson turned, saying, “I almost forgot. You’ve been given a temporary rank of Captain. Your driver taking you to the train in the morning will have uniforms and identity papers for you. Please report in uniform on your arrival in Florida. The enlisted man with your driver is assigned to you as an aide and will be with you until your final deployment overseas.”

To be continued...

Posted: 07/01/2022